A Haunting Sense of Guilt
by BonnieBun
Summary: Toy Freddy was always well-aware that he had been the replacement of someone truly special - in fact, he can't forget it, guilt constantly eating at him anytime he thinks about it. After meeting the 'old' Freddy Fazbear, the guilt starts to go away slowly after learning he's actually very nice, but Toy finally realizes something that had been going on this entire time...
1. Chapter 1

**Hey! BonnieBun here with the first chapter of the sister story to A Lingering Sense of Sadness! Sorry this took so long; I had the original file almost completely finished on my laptop but had forgotten to back it up, and the next thing you know my house was robbed and it was the only thing of mine that they took. (I now have a new laptop, which would explain why I am no longer on a hiatus!) I've decided that rather than making you guys wait even longer while I write the whole thing in one chapter, I'll split it up and deliver it in several chapters. So, without further ado, Chapter One!**

**As always, I'd love a review! :) Enjoy!**

**...**

It never truly occurred to you to think about your reason for creation because you deemed it unnecessary. The others thought about it often, but you were told of your reason the moment you were booted up.

You were created with only one task: entertain the children. Make them laugh and make them remember their birthday for a great majority of their childhood. After all, the place bears carries your name. If anyone, _you _should be the one that the kids are dying to see when the bright purple stage curtains open, spreading the happiness plastered onto your thick plastic face to them like a pathogen. You can't say that you complain how happy you appear all the time, because after all, what is there to complain about? Even though you are robotic, there is this strange sense inside of your core that bounces around like the children that visit your pizzeria everyday, each and every single particle of its being sharing a similar feeling that you associate with that permanent smile of yours.

But every once and a while, those particles... taint themselves. For a few seconds they darken, trying to force your programming to twist the grin on your plastic shell into something less giddy. They try and try, but no matter how hard that smile cannot leave. It is stuck there and is torturing you, taunting you with the fact that you are not portraying your true mood to the kids. There's nothing wrong with feeling that way every once and a while, so why couldn't you?

It's simple: you don't want to make them aware of the reality that happiness isn't everlasting.

You do not feel this way because of a strange bug in your programming, nor do you feel this way because you are in an argument with one of your three closest friends. No, you feel this way for another reason, one that you were positive would be considered stupid to the others.

Your sense of happiness disappears whenever you think about how you had just went and stomped on _his, _crushing his hope and obliterating his reason for being.

It came whenever you even _glanced _in the direction of the Parts room. Most of the time, it came mid-song, which was the worst. Microphone raised, friends performing as well, turning their bodies robotically and acknowledging each other's presence with wiggles of the ears or a nod of the head. For a split second, the words coming out of the speaker deep in your throat seem to jam, refusing to come out. Your literal glassy blue eyes freeze in the direction of that forsaken room, that sense in your core quickly creeping up to your face, trying with all its might to take its skinny, long hands and force the smile onto your face into a frown. To you, it feels like it has succeeded, the image of the children in front of you morphing itself into this scene of terror, tears streaming down their porcelain faces, all color draining from the room as something ominous raises slowly out of a box in the corner of your eye...

You have failed your purpose.

But it is only a hallucination. As quick as the feeling had appeared it was gone; you were still in the middle of the word that you were singing when it had started. The children were still crowded in the colorful dining room with cheeks crimson with excitement, watching the three of you perform like you were their heroes. The box you had saw remained closed.

Why did you hallucinate like that? Was it a glitch? Truthfully speaking, you probably should speak to the mechanic about that. Or, if anything, your friends. But you already knew how they'd react; the child animatronic wouldn't understand at all (besides, he, too, was considered a child in your eyes and you didn't wish to poison him with the knowledge of those tainted particles of happiness), the rabbit would just call you a name, the chicken would just shrug, and the tied-up mess of metal and glass would honestly want to help you but would sadly be disabled because of the garbled way of communicating it had.

Maybe you wouldn't feel so bad for him if he had been shut down and stayed down. But no, he had been teased with a false sense of security when he had been restarted and placed on the exact same stage weeks before your creation, with _your _friends. He had held the exact same microphone and performed for the same kids. You assumed that he felt that happiness that was over-advertised on your face. Your jawline was assembled in such a way that you were physically unable to frown; you had been through this a thousand times already. Judging by what your guitarist friend had told you, he didn't have the same look on his face. His was twisted in a somewhat similar way at the sides, but his jaw was completely straight, not conveying much emotion at all. That was great to you; you wished you were created the same way, because you doubted he had such hallucinations like you did.

Then again, you only had those hallucinations because of how you had ripped his happiness to shreds.

You had never met him in person before; only the rabbit had told you about him, looks-wise. You knew nothing of his personality. Was he the nicest person you could ever meet, or was he a 'only-in-it-for-the-kids' type of guy like the rabbit was? Was he relieved to be off-stage again, was he neutral about it, or did he _absolutely hate _you?

You didn't know. You _did _know, however, that you had a lot in common.

You shared the same name. First name, surname. You both had similar builds, your belly only being a tiny bit more exaggerated than his. You both boasted trademark bowties and top hats as well as the habit of taking it off at the end of the day and tipping it to the kids in a goodbye gesture. You had shared the same friends, the same role in the band, the same place in children's hearts. There weren't too many differences between the two of you.

You are him, and he is you. Yet, you truly weren't the same person at all.

Or... _were _you? Your right hand never seemed the same color brown as your left...


	2. Chapter 2

You had finally decided one night to meet your predecessor. The particles in your core were slightly content but were also at unrest, some strange feeling of anxiety corrupting your core when each one bounced off of your cortex. But, you decided, no matter how the fallen hero of the children felt about you, it would most likely help ease you. Perhaps it was the vagueness of him that caused you to fret in the first place.

The three of you stood onstage as stiff as marble statues, knowing that the rules said you weren't allowed to roam until the clock chimed midnight. Out of the corner of yours, you could see the bunny's eyes flit over in your direction. At first, you think he is looking at you, and you slightly turn your head to face him. It is upon doing this that you realize he is actually looking at the chicken on your left side and doesn't even acknowledge you at all. The particles that were fluttering around inside you suddenly weigh over a ton and collapse rapidly, every one of them practically stuck to the bottom of your core with adhesive. Onstage, you called those two your best friends, but when the last of the audience left, they acted like they didn't even care about you at all. You turned back forward, your head down somewhat, but not enough for them to notice. You were supposed to be the leader loved by everyone, but instead you just felt like a lonely nobody. You wondered if they treated the other you this way before it was decided that he was too ugly and was ultimately replaced.

You were beyond thankful when you could hear the Westminster Chimes behind you on the giant clock that sat in the background of the stage. Almost immediately you made your way down the stairs, leaving the other two behind. You could sense them glaring at you with judgement but didn't dare to look back. The rabbit had to have known what you were doing because of how you asked so curiously about the other you the past few days, but you highly doubted the chicken had the slightest clue. It wouldn't take long for them to start gossiping about you once you were out of earshot; there wasn't much to gossip about, but they always found a way. You had overheard them one night and prayed that the children weren't able to notice how differently you were acting the next day.

The particles began to raise and bounce again, returning to what they were doing before you were hurt. You were able to see the Parts room right in front of you; a few more paces and you would be able to put your hand on the doorknob.

You went to take another step forward but instinctively froze when you heard a click behind you. Your back was to the security camera, the night guard watching you.

Every night, you tried your best to make your way to the office. You had always enjoyed the company of humans and dreaded closing time. Once the last employee left, you began to crawl out of your suit (metaphorically, of course) with loneliness and desperately needed a human to be around. The only human left in the building was the night guard, you found out, and decided to drop in. He always seemed to disappear into thin air once you got right in front of the doorway, however, and you always wound up turning away and dragging your heavy heels all the way back to the game room before trying again an hour later. Your facial recognition software had managed to identify him one night before he had disintegrated; you genuinely wanted to meet Jeremy Fitzgerald, 21, but it was starting to become apparent that he didn't want to meet _you._

Once Jeremy had figured out you weren't doing anything interesting, he clicked away, allowing you to move again. You walked right over to the Parts door and found it difficult to put your hand out in front of you, your elbow being disabled by some outside force. It brought a similar feeling as if it needed to be oiled, but you noticed that you were just hallucinating again when you were brought back to reality by the sound of your hard plastic hand coming into contact with brass. You wrapped your awkward, bulky fingers around the doorknob and twisted your wrist, pushing forward. The hinges moaned as the wooden door opened slowly, a single flickering, dim fluorescent light barely illuminating the center of the room. You tried your best not to be held back by anxiety and stepped in. You purposely left the door open behind you should he be violent, but you, once looking back on it, were not sure why. There was nobody in the building that would -want to- save you, maybe except for the Mangle. She meant well and you cared about her, but the innocent children had torn her apart so much that she wasn't able to do much anymore except crawl around.

You tilted your head downwards to look at the floor. In front of you was a rather gruesome sight; a purple, faceless rabbit sat propped up against the wall, it's head resting on it's own shoulder that lacked an arm; a chicken sat in the opposite corner, it's eyes sunken in and it's jaw touching it's belly, many rows of teeth in between (it didn't appear to have hands, but you weren't too sure because of how dark it was); and laying halfway between both of them was your predecessor, his mouth hanging open and his dead-looking eyes focused on the ceiling. The scene makes you stumble backwards, your hands quickly finding their way to your mouth in horror; yet that damn smile on your face remained. There was absolutely nothing about what was in front of you that called for a smile. You wanted nothing more to frown and race out of that room of terror, yet your feet remained firmly planted on the ground and you stayed.

How sad that was, you thought to yourself. You weren't positive who the rabbit and the chicken were, but they were extremely depressing. The other you didn't move and you assumed that he, too, was basically dead; the way he had positioned himself between the two amputees intrigued you, however. Almost - just _barely _- you picked up the inference that he had cared about them, even loved them. You assumed that he was happy when he had shut down, positioned between his two friends. Because all good things must come to an end, you knew that you, Clyde, and Chickie would eventually be put in the same situation. Though you wouldn't admit it, you silently wished that the three of you would shut down as best friends like what you saw in front of you. When he was about to go, did he position himself like that on purpose, or had he been laying there the entire time? How had he felt when his faceless friend had went, or the handless one? Had he frowned? Was he _able _to frown? Did he have those particles that bounced around in his core, too, making him feel those strange senses? Had he been mad at you when he shut down? Was he comfortable when he went? Was he-

Your thought process halted on a dime. You were so lost in your wonder that you didn't even take the time to notice that he was no longer focused on the ceiling, but _you._

Your hands slowly drop from your mouth as you place them at your sides. Curiosity drives you forward and you step toward him, and his eyes appear to follow yours. Standing right in front of him, you lean down to get closer. He's staring right at you, but the rest of his body does not move.

"H-Hello?" Your voice is tight, anxious for a reaction. He does not answer you at first, but his eyes look you over, his left arm shifting. When he stops, his eyes are watching yours again.

"S-S-S-So you are m-my replacement...?" His voice is deep - as is yours, but his sounds much more mature - and he has a habit of stuttering like you do. The particles lighten up when you notice that; maybe he is just like you!

The words catch in your throat. Will he grow upset with you if you admit it? "U-Um... yes." You answer, wringing your hands. You are prepared to stand up to leave in defense; his microphone was in his left hand and you felt as if he would swing at you with it (what microphone was that? You had the original one on the stage with you). But he doesn't even seem the slightest bit furious. He looks over you again.

"W-Well." He says, moving his arms so he can place his palm flat on the ground, pushing down with little strength he appeared to have left. You instinctively want to help, but before you can even react, he is sitting straight up, beginning to get to his feet. "It's n-n-nice to meet you. I take it that your name is F-Freddy Fredbear?"

If you could've, your mouth would've twisted into confusion. "Fredbear? N-No, that's not it. My name is Freddy _F-F-Faz_bear." He doesn't respond for a second as he is standing up, brushing the dirt and dust off of his legs. Finally, he makes eye contact with you again, throwing out a hand.

"Hello, F-F-Fazbear." His jaw indeed isn't bent into a smile like Clyde had said it was, but you definitely were picking up a sense of politeness and happiness into his expression. Now that you were up close, you could see that his pupils were a milky white, his irises a mixed color of a lazy blue and a light gray. He is looking at you but it still appears as if they are wandering, searching for something that they could look at. You have seen humans that appeared this way before; parents introduced by their children as 'blind'. It didn't seem very possible to you for him to be blind; after all, you both _were _animatronics and had eyes made out of glass... so why did he look this way?

You shook his hand, your smile fitting the particles in your core. You were extremely relieved that he didn't wish to rip you apart. You could almost feel the hallucinations slowly slip away, the invisible hands that tried to force you into a frown that permanently squeezed your shoulders loosening their grip. Even if Clyde and Chickie didn't like you, you honestly felt like you could grow to have a friend.

"Oh, I'm s-s-sorry!" Freddy says, turning around to face the others. "I've forgotten t-t-to introduce you!" You nod politely, but your eyes glance at the faceless and handless robots with confusion. Introduce them...? They were visibly long gone. Maybe Freddy had been back here so long doing nothing that he had gone insane. But it couldn't have been THAT long; you've only been around for three weeks.

He tosses his microphone onto the ground and it resounds off of the tile with a clang, and he gestures over to the chicken almost robotically. He appears to flinch, skimming over them sheepishly, also skimming over the rabbit. You realized that you _were _right; they were shut down; dead. Freddy stops, his open palm facing the darkness. You are a bit puzzled, walking to his side, looking into the abyss but not finding anything. You begin to think he is insane. (Not that it matters to you; you wouldn't think anything different of him. You weren't like the so-called 'friends' you had who were as fake as the plastic that made up their suits.

"F-F-F-Foxy, Goldie!" Freddy called out to the eigengrau. His stuttering did not come from shyness like yours had, you realized. He was very old and his voicebox wasn't working right anymore. Suddenly, staring back at you were two pairs of eyes, one golden yellow, the other the same color as Freddy's. They both appeared almost... mean.

"I-I'm sorry, were you g-g-guys asleep...?" Freddy crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly, his face blank as he waited for a response. A quiet 'yeah' and a somewhat louder 'aye' rang out in response, and you found yourself amazed. There were two others!

"C-C-C-Come out here. I want you to meet someone."

The golden eyes began to move, facing the ground as the animatronic presumably was starting to stand up. "Aye, Freddy, 'tis b-better not be one 'o them p-p-p-plastic knockoffs." He said coldly, and the particles slammed against the bottom of your core again. You felt that a lot, but you could never place what feeling that was. It really hurt, whatever it was. The blue eyes also began to move.

Freddy appeared to grow angry with him, placing his hands on his hips. "F-F-Foxy! Why w-would you say that?"

"'Tis th' truth. We all be knowin' we wouldn't be back here if it weren't fer them bastards." He came into view and you found yourself somewhat afraid of this one. He had a black eyepatch on and had a hook for his hand, his arms crossed. He had an extremely long and detailed snout, an innumerable amount of teeth in his mouth. His suit appeared to be ripped in many places, his bare endoskeleton exposed. You noticed that he looked very similar to Pinky, the Mangle.

"Foxy, d-d-don't use those words." Freddy turned to you, holding out an arm. "T-T-This is Freddy."

"I think I could've figured that out." You didn't like this one as much; he seemed very rude. He didn't hold out a hand like Freddy had, but because you were the bigger person (physically, as well; he was a lot skinnier than everybody else in the room) you held out yours.

"H-Hi. Foxy, r-right?" Foxy turned his back to you, but had his head over his shoulder and stared at you. The particles grew warm and bounced somewhat harder off of your core. You lowered your hand, Freddy tapping his fingers on his one cheek, clearly seeing it wasn't going well.

"Ye only heard Fred shout me moniker a million times now," Foxy turned his head completely, his back now entirely to you, "'O course I be. 'N only me mateys call me Foxy; _ye_ call me Cap'n."

Freddy was going to interfere, but visibly appeared very relieved when a golden bear materialized into view. They seemed much friendlier, their jaw hung open in curiosity, big blue eyes looking you over. Freddy walked over and placed his hand at the top of their back, holding out his arm at you like he had done with Foxy.

"G-Goldie, this is Freddy."

"Hi, F-F-Freddy!" Goldie chirped, waggling her fingers at you. She approached you and held out a hand, and happy that Foxy was really making a fool of himself now by ignoring you, delicately took her hand to shake it. Not that you needed to be careful with her; her endoskeleton was no less strong than the others'; you were just used to shaking the hands of mothers carefully. The female voice of hers must've caught you off guard, because she didn't appear to look like one.

"A-Aw, Freddy, l-l-look at his rosy little c-c-cheeks!" Goldie cried, reaching up to touch your face. You weren't sure what to do and in return just stood there like your bulky, awkward self as her dirty yellow suit left a mark on your right cheek. "They're s-s-s-s-_so _cute; the kids must love that!"

"Goldie, G-Goldie." Freddy tugged on her back and she stumbled backward, her arm still outstretched at you. She lowered her hand and put it to her mouth, giggling childishly. Foxy returned to the darkness. Freddy didn't seem to notice until the sound of glass and metal shifting echoed to his right, and he turned his head. He rolled his eyes and faced you again.

"S-S-S-Sorry about Foxy," he apologized, his eyes not quite looking at you. "H-He's always been a bit... _rude _t-to people he's not used t-t-to."

Not that he'd be the first one, you say to yourself. A few minutes before, you had saw Chickie walk past the Parts room, her beak off and her eyes out of their sockets, glaring inside at you as if you had shoved a child to the ground. You hadn't seen Clyde.

"It's fine," you lie, letting out the hearty chuckle you used onstage, "I c-can understand, that's probably tough to be taken offstage and replaced."

"Freddy would know, lad. Have ye forgotten why ye exist?" Foxy snarked at you from the abyss. Freddy wordlessly knelt down to pick up his microphone, and, winding his arm, blindly whipped it into the darkness. A sound similar to a breaking lightbulb echoed throughout the service room.

"_Freddy, that was me eye!_" Foxy cried out.

"T-Then I guess that eyepatch is g-g-gonna come into good use." Freddy remarked at him, completely serious. Goldie was in hysterics laughing at them, the tiny top hat on her head twinkling in the flickering light. It was covered with gray sparkles from top to bottom. The smile on your face belonged then as you found yourself pleased that Foxy had gotten what he deserved. The particles in your core were cooling down, returning to their normal state. You sheepishly turned to look behind you at the faceless bunny, who sat there quietly with their arms at their sides. You had lost track of how long you stood like that, because when you turned back at Freddy and Goldie, they both seemed melancholy. Goldie quietly hugged herself and stared at the wall and Freddy had his hands folded in front of him, watching you. Perhaps you weren't supposed to look at them...? The particles grew faster.

You must've somehow appeared anxious, because Freddy evidently had noticed. "N-N-No, no, it's alright. You s-seem like a curious g-g-guy."

"Are they okay?" You ask, turning back at the bunny. Freddy walks next to you, kneeling down in front of them. You hear Goldie talking to herself behind you.

Silence for a minute. "Um... n-no..." Freddy reached out and picked up the bunny's one hand she had left and held it in his. "They were put b-backstage when the friends of y-yours were put onstage. They were alright for a while, b-but..." He let out a sigh so human-like it was startling. "Their servos locked up one night. B-B-Bon was alone for a while because C-Chica went first, but I t-tried to keep her happy as long as she c-c-could be." You could see that he was beginning to grow upset and you regretted asking. Feeling bad but lacking the courage to speak up, you brought your hand up to your mouth and held it there, wanting to slap the smile off of your own face. Stop smiling! What was the matter with you?

"I still remember the night that I f-found her. She had her guitar in her hand for some reason and C-C-Chica had her cupcake, but they both were resting on each other's shoulders, a-a-and..." He stopped, squeezing Bonnie's hand tightly, staring into her face to search for the slightest bit of life, but he failed to find any. You never felt so bad for someone in your entire existence.

"...No. No, they're n-n-not." He placed her hand back at her side and patted the side of her jaw, standing back up. He awkwardly looked over at you, his jaw shaped into a sad smile. "T-They're not okay."

You're unsure what to say. You've comforted crying children before - and Freddy most certainly wasn't crying; he couldn't, he was just visibly very upset - but you weren't going to give a damn robot a lollipop and let him wear your top hat for fifteen minutes. You nervously tapped your fingers against each other and half-lowered your eyelids to make it appear that you felt bad. You actually did.

"I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

"N-N-N-No, you're alright. You're just curious, that's a-all."

You turned to look behind you and found Goldie hanging on Chica, talking to her quietly. The particles in your core buzzed around strangely. You felt bad for them but were still relieved that they weren't cut-throat toward you (except for Foxy). Not sure what to do, you just stood there for a few, watching Goldie talk to a dead animatronic. You were confused as to why Chica didn't have any hands or why Bonnie was missing her arm and face, but you just assumed they were starting to rust at the joints, and so it didn't get everywhere, had the rusting parts removed. Goldie glanced up at you, trying to contort her jaw into a smile. She was disabled by the lack of the right components to do so.

"A-A-Are you gonna come visit us often, F-Freddy?" She went to stand up, her jaw still hanging. It hadn't stopped hanging a single time the entire time you were in the room; she must've lost the bolts that kept it closed.

"W-What? Oh, wait." Freddy let out a laugh similar to the one you had; it was deep and cheerful. "I forgot I-I'm not the only Freddy in the r-r-room."

"Here, wait!" You cried out, gathering the attention of the others. Freddy's eyes wandered for yours and Goldie tilted her head curiously, looking at you with jaw agape. She folded her hands. "Why don't you guys just call me something else? Y'know, to prevent confusion." Goldie clapped her hands excitedly, dust blowing up into her face from her suit.

"That's a _g-g-g-g-great _idea!" She cried, looking over at Freddy. "But what should w-we call him?"

"Fazbear, maybe?" He suggested, adjusting his top hat. "B-B-Because we have different last names?"

You suddenly felt very proud of yourself for remembering something. At the beginning of the day, you greeted the families at the door. About a week ago, you had welcomed a family of two - a mother and a daughter. The little girl beamed from ear to ear and ran toward you with her arms thrown out.

"_Look, Mommy! He's like a giant teddy bear; I _love _him!"_

"How about Teddy?"

Goldie clapped again. "Awwwww, h-h-how cute! I love it! You've got yourself a d-deal, Teddy!"

You admired her enthusiasm. She seemed like a very upbeat animatronic, despite the fact that she had been thrown backstage. You weren't too sure what her purpose had been, because even today, only four animatronics were the main ones. Was she like Balloon Boy back when she was in service, or was she onstage too?

Freddy opened his mouth to speak, but he was cut off by the sound of the clock chimes. "H-Hurry, get back onstage! Y-Y-Y-You don't want to be offstage when the night guard goes to leave!" You nodded and made your way to the door, turning back to look at them. Goldie went over to Freddy, standing in front of Bonnie. They both waved at you and you waved back, relieved that somebody in the building didn't think you were a complete loser. Right before you turned around, you decided to look over them one last time for the night.

You realized Freddy was missing his right hand.


	3. Chapter 3

**This is what I'd like to call a 'plot-purpose' chapter. Not too, too important to the plot but is still relevant. I assure you, next chapter's gonna be 10x better! Enjoy!**

**EDIT: Fixed a continuity error towards the end of the chapter.**

**...**

Today hadn't been a very good day for you. In the sense of how the customers communicated with you, it was completely fine. It was in terms of your _suit _that made it bad.

You had a birthday party early into the morning towards opening time, which meant you went almost immediately from talking to Freddy and Goldie to welcoming children at the front door. There was a window of about fifteen minute's time where you were in sleep mode onstage before you were turned back on to greet children at the door. But, for some reason, when you awoke to walk to the door, your facial recognition software was going berserk. Every adult you looked at had a purple tint to their skin tone and were classified as a threat.

At first, you stopped dead in your tracks and scanned each adult carefully, staring them in the eyes for a good five seconds. Surely not _everybody _was a convict? Right?

You shrugged it off, deciding that the children were the most important thing to focus on at the moment. If you saw somebody try to harm the children, that would be when you'd move to step in. Being the shy bear you were, you nonchalantly glanced to your sides to see if the others had seen the same things. Indeed, they too were keeping a close, watchful eye on every single person that entered through the doors. Why were you all glitching so bad?

Aside from the fault in your software, your suit had taken quite a bit of damage today. Once, you were too busy scanning somebody's criminal record and had ran right into the corner of the hallway that jutted out into the dining room, your nose honking on the impact. The kids had found it funny and you guffawed to let them know you were okay, but a few employees had noticed that you had smashed the front of your left eye right in, breaking the bulb that lit it up as well as the outside dome. You had, too; that was why you bellowed, "I'm okay, kids! I just goofed as all!" while facing the Parts room and cupping your eye with your hand. Within no time, you had a new eye hooked up and were ready to go again.

Later on that day, you were going to step offstage on the stairs and miscalculated where you were going because - once again - you were double-checking the criminal record of a suspicious looking employee and wound up falling to the ground, crushing your left arm under you, damaging some of the endoskeleton inside as well. It was decided that they would completely remove your arm since it would be easier than trying to repair said components, bringing you inside the Parts room.

You looked around for Freddy, Goldie, and Foxy, but they weren't anywhere to be found. They must've been hiding in the darkness that was in the back of the room; but why? Didn't they want to say hello? Especially Goldie, with her happy, giddy, sociable self. For the entirety you were back there, none of them materialized into view.

They already had an arm made for you (how did they do that? The mechanics and crafters must've been _great _at their jobs!) and were able to hook it up to you and get it to work in less than an hour. In a normal situation, you would've talked their ear off with friendly small talk, but this time around you kept your mouth shut the whole time. In your working arm, you felt this magnetic tug on your wrist. It was extremely strong and urged you to raise your arm and attack those criminals. How dare they lay their filthy crime-ridden hands on you! It would be quick; you knew it would... Just reach out and grip their throat real tight... If only you had both your arms; then it would be even quicker...

You almost went through with it. That half of you that yearned for bloodshed convinced you that you didn't kill them because you hadn't acted in time. Your normal, warm-and-fuzzy half convinced you that it was the friendly tone in their voices when they said, "You're all good, Freddy!" that immediately made you feel guilty for even considering it.

You didn't like that new murderous, violent side that came with the messed up facial recognition software. You made a mental note to bring it up to the mechanic the next time you saw him.

For the rest of the day, your suit went unscathed for the most part. Your new arm was a bit hard to move, but you used it as your microphone arm to be able to use your other one fluently. Shortly before closing time, though, when the three of you did signature character poses to sign the kids off; that was when your suit took a third hit.

Even though the stage was large, you all came together at the end of the day in center stage, with arm room being unheard of. You always tipped your hat, Chickie always spun around a few times and hugged the cupcake to her chest, and Clyde spun his guitar. The latter was what went wrong.

When Clyde went to twirl his guitar, he caught it, but he stumbled to the side and accidentally drove the neck into your side, cracking your hip piece and once again damaging the endoskeleton inside. Naturally, you grabbed it, wanting nothing more than to yell out in pain, but after all, that smile was frozen on your face and you had to keep a fake attitude on for the children. A few of them had saw it happened and froze, watching you to see if you were okay. Forced to stand there and wave at them while sparks shot off of a split wire on your insides, you couldn't wait until closing time. That issue probably wouldn't be fixed till morning, but maybe talking to the old crew would help ease your mind off of your terrible day.

"Sorry, Freddy," Clyde sneered at you, all while somehow looking genuine, Chickie grinning on his other side. The gullible robot you were, you hugged yourself shyly and told him it was fine, wanting to wince at the fiery pain those tiny flares in your hip were giving you. A child in the crowd applauded Clyde for apologizing - "because after all, it had been an 'askident'" - and left. But you knew he hadn't messed up at all. He knew exactly what he was doing and enjoyed every second of it.

So there you were, wasting no time going down the main hallway, the squeaky door to the Parts room left cracked open from earlier that day.

Letting yourself inside, you shut the door behind you, the deadlatch clicking into place. Like earlier, none of the old animatronics were in the area of the flickering light. Save for Bonnie and Chica, of course.

"Freddy?" You call out, somewhat venturing into that abyss in the second half of the room. At first, you receive no answer, but several eyes light up in front of you. You back up, hands to your chest in happiness that at least _some _people were going to give you positive attention today, and waited for them to emerge as you listened to the series of clicks and whirrs the three of them made as they turned back on.

"O-O-O-Okay, we're getting up, just give us a m-minute to rega-ga-gather our senses." Freddy informed you, and you nodded, standing next to Chica, who had fallen over onto her side, jaw sprawled on the floor. You looked down at her and instantly felt creeped out (but pitied her nonetheless), anxiously pondering for something to talk about.

"So, uhhh..." You began, kicking your foot back and forth awkwardly, arms behind your back with your eyes fixated on the tiles, "How was you guys' days?"

"E-E-Eh." You recognized Goldie's voice, "I dunno about the b-boys, but I was really irritated all d-d-d-d-day."

"Yarr, me too, G-Gold," sputtered Foxy, "It was to th' point whar I shut m-meself below fer th' day I was so irritated. Which, it h-h-honestly isn't l-like me to be that angry."

You couldn't help yourself. You burst into laughter at his claim, the hilarity you saw in that statement spreading to the two bears, who also did the same, theirs monotone.

"A-A-Arrgh, what ye guys be hootin' n' hollerin' 'bout?" Foxy asked confusedly, which only led you all to laugh harder. He was completely clueless.

"A-A-As for _my _day," Freddy was almost completely off the ground but seemed like he was having trouble keeping his balance when trying to stand. "I was awake mostly. When I wasn't, I got r-r-r-ripped apart again. Sucks, but I guess I gotta accept it." He was still struggling to get up and you were deciding whether or not to help him, but Goldie was at his side.

"You two always seemed so alike," You pointed out to them. Goldie looked up, her blue eyes the only thing you could see in the eigengrau.

"Who? M-Me and Frederick?"

"Frederick?" Freddy snorted.

"Yeah. I dunno why," you chuckled nervously, putting a hand to your head, "Maybe it's the suits? Maybe it's just, the way you two act? I dunno."

"O-Or maybe," spoke the darkness, whose voice was deep and friendly, "It's because w-w-when we were still in concept, we were supposed to be designed l-like twins."

"_Really_?" You were in awe. You have only been in existence for a mere few weeks, but you never really saw many relationships between all of the animatronics at the pizzeria. Sure, Clyde and Chica were partners in crime, but they weren't _that _close. You and Mangle were lucky if you spoke to each other once a week, and you were only a few paces away. For two of them to be created to be like twins was a foreign thing to you, but the thought of it was admittedly pretty sweet.

"Yep!" Cue the darkness's apparent sister, "I m-m-mean, duh, we're not really related; we're r-r-r-_robots..._" Goldie giggled like she always did, "But that's how they introduced us t-to the kids. Kinda like a, _O-O-Oh yeah, and that's his sister _sorta thing. Pretty cool, I guess."

Finally, Freddy had managed to stand on two feet and fixed his hat, walking toward you into the dim light. With each step he took, the sound of broken metal clang, growing louder as he neared you. "A-Also, you have the facial recognition thing in your p-p-p-programming, too, right?"

You lit up like a house during the holidays, flinching so excitedly that your top hat almost fell off your head. Arms shaking with exhilaration, you reached up to fix it. "Yes! Every adult I look at is purple and it goes insane telling me everyone's a thre-"

You stopped.

He was in front of you now, watching you with sincere interest in what you were saying. Goldie emerged next to him, giggling with her hands folded, a happy expression on her face. They both frowned after you had been in their view for a few seconds. Your face (of course) was twisted in a smile, but your eyes were wide open in shock. Freddy looked down at his left side, where your pointing finger was frozen in place.

"Huh?"

"Y-Your arm." Was all you could say, not moving an inch. Goldie leant forward, inspecting her 'brother's' lack of a limb.

"M-M-M-My arm...?" Freddy sounded genuinely lost, lifting his head back up and rubbing the back of his head. "I told you, it got r-ripped off."

Your hand robotically rose to cup your right eye. Coincidentally, Freddy was missing his, a black, empty socket where it should've been. What was going on? Surely... surely...?

Freddy walked towards you, (left) arm outstretched in concern. "A-A-Are you alright?" He asked, grabbing your wrist and putting it at your side, inspecting your eye to see if something was wrong with it. He failed to find anything.

"Y-You said you weren't awake, when they, when they took your arm?" You could barely say anything; the speaker in your throat had to push the words out in order for you to say them. You felt the hallucinations coming back, the walls beginning to melt around you, Freddy staring you in the face, extremely worried. You focused on his one eye, but suddenly, it collapsed on itself and disintegrated. Panicking, you looked at his nose, his mouth, his teeth, but they all began to disappear, the animatronic falling apart in front of your eyes. With each thing he lost, you felt a strange tingling in the limb of yours that he had lost. One by one, all of your extremities began to feel alienated from you as Freddy's face panel fell to the floor with a clang, his suit splitting into millions of pieces, his endoskeleton bursting apart in a myriad of pipes, nuts, and bolts. The sparks in your hip were exploding now, the fire agonizing you. The particles are the darkest they have ever been, ricocheting off your sides so roughly that you thought you were going to break into fragments. Shakily placing your hand out in front of you to inspect it, you saw that it didn't even look like your hand at all. The particles slammed against the bottom of your core again, and you stumbled backwards, holding your head. You heard panicking voices, but you couldn't understand what they were saying; it sounded as if your ears were plugged with cotton, head underwater. You could've sworn that you felt hands touching your arms, and you fell backward in fear, immediately blacking out.

...

When you awoke, you were in one of the party rooms, slouched against the dirty wall. The four rooms that could be reserved were always the coolest because they were connected to vents, which aired out the humid, stuffy warmth. Somehow, even though you didn't have any nerve endings, you could feel the draft from the vents, which really helped to calm you down. Looking around you, you found Goldie sitting at your side, eyeing you silently. Freddy was in the corner of the room, face right up in the camera. The particles drop again, but for a different reason this time. He was okay.

"H-H-How are you...?" Goldie asked, glancing over at the doorway. Foxy bolted past, his orange suit a blur, but you could make out his raised hook and exposed endoskeleton. Freddy remained with his face in the camera.

"Fine," was all you said. Why were you in that room? You knew exactly why you blacked out; those particles had went completely berserk and you lost control of yourself. You felt the invisible hands grip your shoulders tightly, letting you know they were back. When you looked back at Goldie and picked up a look of hurt on her face, you began to panic. The hands slid up to your mouth and began to tug at the corners, trying to tear the smile away. You hadn't truly paid attention to how you'd answered her; had you come off as rude?

"Y-You scared us half to death. You fell right between B-B-Bonnie and Chica and like," She turned and looked at the vents, "_S-S-S-S-Shut down! _We brought you in here 'cause m-maybe you overheated and it would c-c-cool you down if you were in here i-in-nstead."

The hands backed off of your jaw. She seemed alright; you just overreacted. Your mind was in a million places, especially after your software began to glitch that morning. "Thanks!" You laughed, fixing your hat. Goldie giggled like she always did, putting her hands to her mouth. She always seemed so jubilant and ecstatic about everything; you wished she could give you some of her positivity.

"Is he okay? What's he doing?" You pointed at Freddy, who still hasn't moved from the security camera. Goldie stood up, reaching down at you to help you up. You took her hand, but your heavy suit was almost too much for her to lift up. Her heels skidded a little as she tugged as hard as she could on your arm, but she managed, brushing off her knees like Freddy had the first night when he got off the floor.

"I-I-I'm hiding you f-from the camera," Freddy explained, turning to face you momentarily before going back to what he was doing, "I f-f-f-figured you wouldn't want that _p-pig _watching you sitting there unconscious, so I've b-been standing here for the past f-five hours."

You suddenly feel as if you have been hit in the chest with something and grab at your left elbow with your right hand. "Pig?"

"The n-night guard."

"But... he's not a pig!"

"H-H-He gives me this odd vibe. I don't like him at a-a-all."

You just looked at the ground, not wishing to get into any arguments. "To each their own, I guess... Thanks for looking out for me."

"No p-p-problem!" He let out a guffaw (you both did that a lot), and figuring that you were okay to be exposed to the camera, stepped away.

Just then, Foxy stormed through the door, ripping at Freddy's suit with his hook, tearing away a piece of fabric.

"F-F-Foxy!"

"_I jus' don' get it, laddie!_" He screeched, crossing his arms and pouting, "Anytime I rush that scurvy dog, he just goes away! Completely disappears! I be tellin' ye, he's a fockin' magician!"

Freddy put a hand to his forehead and sighed. "Foxy, language."

"'N that's not all!" Foxy rambled on, leading Freddy to cross his arms and glare at him as if this happened all the time. Goldie predictably started to laugh.

"That sly bastard always shines his light in me eye whenever he sees I be in front 'o him! He nearly blinds me half to Davy Jones' treasure chest!"

Freddy just stared, his jaw positioned irritatedly. "A-A-Are you done, Captain?"

"Do ye want me to be?"

"...no."

"You're lyin', Fred! I can spy it in yer eyes... eye. I can spy it in ye sin'le, glass blue eye..."

Freddy eyed Foxy strangely. "Alright, I guess we're done here." He turned on his heel and approached you, his friendly demeanor still intact.

You weren't sure what he had planned on saying to you, but you blurted without any caution, "_S-So, your dead friends."_

You winced at what you had just shouted. The hands wound around your thick little neck and reached up at your mouth again, pulling so tightly at your jaw that you undoubtedly felt it crack at the corners. That taunting smile of yours was going away, but of embarrassment. Freddy and Goldie just gaped at you, presumably in disbelief that they heard you say what you just had. You wanted to crawl out of your suit.

Freddy looked you up and down, Foxy crossing his arms and glaring at you in the background. You _really _didn't like that fox; and you loved everybody. "Y-Yeah? What about them?" Freddy glitched, his expression still welcoming, but it seemed cold at the same time. You were treading dangerous waters.

To be honest with yourself, you actually hadn't known why you had brought up Bonnie and Chica so abruptly. But now that you had mentioned them, there was no turning back. Freddy leant toward you slightly, impatient for an answer. He seemed extremely protective of those two.

"You three got along, right?"

Freddy was silent for a few seconds, leaning back to his original position. "G-G-G-Got along...?" He processed. "I mean, of c-course. They were my..." He looked at the ground sheepishly, and you could immediately tell that he was living in the past for those few seconds. "Best friends. Y-Yes, I got along with them. W-W-Why do you a-ask?"

Hesitating, your glassy blue eyes frantically scanned the colorful tile, trying to decide if you should confess how poorly Clyde and Chickie always treated you. The particles danced in your core, telling you that maybe if you vented to someone you could get advice in return and finally stand up to them. Yeah. That would be nice.

You straightened your shoulders and balled your fists, holding your head high. You opened your mouth to spill everything that you've felt about those fakes, but right as you were about to speak, you caught sight of Chickie looming outside of the doorway. She wasn't wearing her beak and her eyes were missing for some reason, but she scrutinized you intently, daring you to bring a single thing up.

As usual, you were intimidated and frightened by her, so you just wound up cowering back down and held your elbows shyly. "I was just wondering," you lied, glancing back up at the door. Chickie was gone.

You could see Goldie watching you out of the corner of your eye. You didn't acknowledge her in fear that she'd press further, because by the little bit of her you could see by the light of the security office down the hall, you could tell that she was well aware that you were lying. Luckily, she didn't, because she began to drag her heels across the room, weaving through the many tables.

"W-W-Well, now that I know you're okay, T-Teddy, I'm heading back to the parts room." She turned on her heel, partially pushing Foxy out of the way to clear her path. She looked sly, but didn't giggle a single time. She jerked her head backwards into the hallway, referring to Chickie. "S-Stand up to them one day. It'll help you in the l-l-l-long run, I promise."

You froze, the particles stopping where they were. She knew? How did she know? How _could _she have known?

You couldn't have asked her, because just like that, she was gone.

"Freddy, we best be gettin' back to th' parts room; th' clock says 'tis almost six." Foxy gathered the attention of the both of you. Freddy nodded and turned back at you, fixing his bowtie.

"W-W-W-Which probably means you should be g-getting to the stage."

"Right." You nodded in agreement, following your predecessor down the long, breezy hallway. He is much taller than you are; his head - even without his hat on - almost grazes the ceiling. You, yourself, are lucky if your fingertips can brush it if you stand on the tips of your feet with your arm completely stretched upward.

Foxy was taller than you yet shorter than Freddy, but he acted as if he was 20 feet tall. He swaggered down that hallway with his nose up, his arms crossed, hook wrapped around one of them comfortably. You wondered if he had always been a smug person or if his snobbish attitude came from the panic and fear of being thrown backstage to be torn apart.

Foxy let himself inside the parts room, leaving the door open behind him, revealing Goldie kneeling next to Bonnie, fixing up one of the rabbit's lopsided ears. Just barely, you could see Chica's head from behind the door, eyes stuck wide open. Freddy didn't seem to like to talk much about those two, yet you were so intrigued by the both of them that you wanted to know every little detail that you could possibly know about them. What had Bonnie's face looked like? Were they friends? Were they enemies? How did they feel when they were tossed to be scrap metal while their friend still stood onstage with their two replacements?

Just then, you felt a hand on your shoulder, and you found yourself very unnerved, being as it sounded like a _plastic _hand because of the sound it made when it touched you; even though you knew where all of the old animatronics were, their suits wouldn't have made a single noise.

You glanced over your shoulder and was face to face with Clyde, who shared a similar permanent smile to yours. His eyes were widened, his hand remaining on you. You took a step backward, nervous.

"Freddy!" He cried, wrapping his arms around yours, and the particles in your core began to heat up and reflect off of each other aggressively. "Me and the others were looking _all over the place _for you! Where have you been?"

"U-Um..." You stuttered, eyes focused on the floor. Clyde looked you over, facial expression cemented, his eyes growing angrier the longer he went without an answer. You expected him to lash out on you and make it look like an accident again, but to your surprise, he laughed and hugged you.

"Well, it doesn't matter. The night's over now and we've got parties to do in the morning! We better get back to the stage!"

As if on cue, Chickie burst out of the darkness of the hallway, retreating from the security office.

"Oh, Clyde, dear! You've found Freddy? I've been worried sick about you, Freddy!" She flounced over to your other side and hugged your other arm, leaving you with two fakes on both arms and a very confused predecessor in front of you. You felt like you were boiling, as did the strange particles. You prayed Freddy wasn't buying this; he had to have known that they were putting on a show.

Before either of you could say anything, the Westminster Chimes resounded from the stage, and Clyde and Chickie quickly yanked on your arms, dragging you down that hallway.

You tried to break free of their grasp, but they had ahold of you too tight. Freddy just waved at you and shut the parts door behind him, leaving you with the two psychos that you had to call your friends.

They pulled you onstage, adjusting their character items frantically before the night guard left. The sparks in your hip were slowing, but they were still there nonetheless. The employee that was about to come in was going to notice for sure, which meant you were going to take yet another thing that wasn't yours from Freddy. Hopefully those hallucinations of panic didn't come back again today. That would be disastrous.

For no reason in specifics, you remembered what Freddy had said about Jeremy Fitzgerald earlier that night. He had called him a pig for whatever reason.

'Pig' wasn't a polite word and you preferred it to not be used. He seemed like a very polite and nice guy judging by what you had seen from the hallways those first few nights. He just had a problem with disappearing into thin air any time you got close. Maybe if you came through the vents you'd finally be able to meet him. But no matter how mad it made you when he became one with the air, you didn't truly think he was a pig.

Jeremy emerged from the main hall, hurrying across the game room. Your facial recognition software began to register him. His skin was purple as well as his clothes and hair. He donned a golden badge on his breast, which was the only thing he was wearing that you could make out.

_He wasn't a pig..._

An alarm that only you could hear rang inside your suit, notifying you that he was a threat, listing a criminal record in front of your eyes that appeared for any other adult that you tried to scan. Since you got those readings for everyone else, you took it with a grain of salt most of the time. But this time around, you actually stopped and stared at him, trying to get any other information you could. Things were starting to get strange.

_...was he?_


	4. Chapter 4

You couldn't truly say you were "all there" today, because you did nothing but hallucinate from open to close.

Walls melted, limbs of yours didn't even look like yours but rather someone else's, children cried and the rooms turned gray, that phantom began to rise out of the box. Just about anything you could've possibly worried about you visualized through those illusions, stressing you out even worse and making you anticipate closing time for the first time ever.

At least you knew why you had them. Freddy was used for spare parts; specifically yours. Those mechanics had an arm already there for you yesterday because they had just ripped it from his body while he was shut down. They had also torn his eye out and, this morning, had taken bits and pieces from his endoskeleton as well as his hip plate to replace yours that Clyde had broke. The quicker you fell apart, the faster your friend would be gone. And it would be 100% your fault.

When you first had been placed onstage, you hallucinated every time you looked down the main hall because you felt terrible for replacing him. Now, it was ten times worse, the fact that he was where all of your 'new' extremities were coming from haunting you so badly you could barely function. And he didn't even seem like he cared! He _had _to know that you were stealing his arms and endoskeleton. There was no way he was completely oblivious.

The time came where the three of you gathered in center stage again, and you nonchalantly covered your hip with your hand so Clyde wouldn't try to pull anything again. Cue character poses, your side going unscathed. You all held your stances, smiling at the leaving children. Except, once everybody else cleared out, a group of parents stood together, looking around frantically.

You slowly lowered your poses as you watched the (purple nonetheless) adults converse with each other, eventually dispersing in a group to scrounge the pizzeria for something. Looking under the tables, looking inside the million giant gift boxes scattered around the restaurant, turning every room upside down, all while calling childrens' names. Mothers were bawling their eyes out in apparent fear and fathers were roaring in the faces of the managers with threats to sue, and you three onstage were completely clueless as to what was happening. They were searching the pizzeria for about an hour more, the night guard coming in for his shift and winding up helping, before the employees escorted the upset parents out, saying something to them that you couldn't hear. They shut the door behind them, quickly gathering their belongings. The last to leave was the man that worked the cash registers, and he stopped and turned around, staring at you three in sorrow before shutting the lights out and locking the door, shaking the handle to make sure it locked correctly. He slowly disappeared into the night.

Now that everyone was gone, you all were allowed to move around. What had just happened? You looked at Clyde and Chickie to see if they had any clue, but they didn't even show signs of worry. In fact, they both were focused on _you, _cold expressions on their overly-painted faces. Nervous and puzzled, you just shrugged it off, going to pass Clyde to get offstage.

Except you felt his hand grip your arm rather tightly.

You turned around, anxiously lost, and once he just stared at you for a few more seconds you reached at his hand to get it off. You didn't mean any harm; you just wanted him to let you go.

He smacked your hand away and gripped your arm even tighter, tugging you towards him, wrapping his arm around yours so that you couldn't move. Chickie moved up behind him, staring at you from over Clyde's shoulder. She had her beak off and the mouth underneath was curved in a smirk.

"H-Hey," You twisted your body so that you were facing the rabbit and jammed your fingers under his to try and break free, but he had you too firmly. His childish green eyes bored right into yours, looking extremely serious.

"You're getting attached." He spat.

"A-A-Attached?" You needed to stop stuttering. You were taller than both of them and had a much thicker build; you could take them no doubt. Yet there you were, succumbing to their domineering like the giant baby you were.

"To those piles of junk backstage." He gripped your arm even tighter, pulling you in close to his face. You did nothing but shake in fear, your panicking eyes madly searching his for any sense of friendliness. You failed to find any.

"You know why they're back there..." He ripped you so close to him his forehead was touching you. "..._right?_"

You struggled against his grasp, trying to at least lift your head away, but he tore you right back. Chickie hovered on Clyde's left side, grinning at you mockingly.

"T-They're used for spare p-parts." You quietly squeaked. Clyde roughly shook you once, ripping you closer. You were dizzied with dread.

"What?"

"I s-said, they're spare parts." Clyde cackled at you, his voice in no way sounding like it did when you three conversed onstage as friends, entertaining the kids with your happily-toned sounds.

"Y-Y-You're right, fatass!" He teasingly cheered, stuttering on purpose, your cortex suddenly bugging out, turning ice cold. The particles in your core acted a similar way; you were built chubby, you couldn't help it. And 'ass' wasn't a nice word to use.

"And you know what that means?" He whispered, pulling your head down so his mouth could be level with your ear. You trembled softly, wanting nothing more to be with your real friends, waiting for him to answer his own question. But he didn't do anything to your surprise. Chickie walked over next to you, and because of how your head was positioned you could only see from her belly down, and she put her hands on her hips.

"Did you hear him, chubby? He said," She balled her fist and drove it into your stomach, knocking you backwards a little, shocking you for a second, "_Do you know what that means?_"

You struggled to keep your balance, Clyde still holding your head tightly as you fell over from the blow. You tripped a few times but backed up so Clyde couldn't grab your arms anymore, your body pretty much bent at a 90 degree angle. You didn't want to resort to violence, you really didn't. You just wanted to see Freddy and Goldie - and you were so desperate to get away from the danger that you would've even settled for _Foxy. _Anything to get away from Clyde and Chickie. You never had been so frightened in your entire existence.

"W-What does it mean?" You sputtered, flicking your eyes up at Clyde. Even from the view you saw him at he looked genuinely evil.

"It means..." He began to press his palms against the side of your head intensely hard, the pressure on your face panel nearly unbearable (no pun intended, of course). You fought against him again, relying on your legs to twist you and break free. At first, it was working, Clyde's smooth plastic hands slipping from your head, falsely giving you the illusion of escape. Right when you thought you were on the clear, Chickie swiftly moved behind you and stamped on one of your feet to keep you in place, crouching down and wrapping one of her arms around both of your legs in a lock. Once again, you were trapped.

"Trying to escape?" The speaker in his throat made a clicking noise that was supposed to sound like the clicking of a tongue, and he shook his head disapprovingly. He glared back down at you with a sneer before clamping his hands on your head again, crushing you even stronger than the last time. "No, no, no, Freddy, that's how you make things worse for yourself."

You tried to worm out of Chickie's grip, making noises of panicked dismay. "P-P-Please let me g-go," you pleaded. Clyde shook his head again.

"You didn't even let me finish what I was saying! Rude you are." He rolled his eyes at you and opened his mouth, making a show of taking forever as he pressed your head. You heard a very quick crack and realized it was coming from the upper left corner of your face, the plastic beginning to break from the heavy pressure Clyde was causing.

"M-My face!"

"It _**means**_," Clyde yelled over you, "Anything on you that breaks has to have a replacement from them." He leant closer to you, the crack spreading diagonally down your face while you cried out in terror, another crack beginning to form on the other side of your head. "And you know what _that _means? That means that the faster you fall apart, the quicker... _he'll _be gone." The newly formed crack was quickly tearing down your face, the two rifts almost completely met in the center of your head.

"_Clyde, let me go!_" You boomed in some newly found confidence, your voice echoing throughout the pizzeria. Your cortex was converting from icy cold to boiling hot, the particles aggressively throwing themselves around your core. You were so tired of them shoving you around.

"That would be a mighty shame, wouldn't it?" Clyde cooed, pressing even harder against your head, his arms shaking with the force. All of a sudden, with a very loud and painful sounding _crack, _your face popped off of your head, clattering onto the stage in front of you. Your jaw still remained, but without that face, you couldn't smile. For the first time ever, you didn't feel the burden of having to keep everyone happy. For a few seconds, you were at peace, the chaos you were in slowing to a stop. You were brought back into harsh reality when you felt one of your ears torn from your body, Clyde whipping it across the dining room. Chickie was tearing at one of your feet, or rather, the endoskeleton inside.

Your confidence disintegrated back into the cowardly terror you had felt earlier, and you threw your hands up on the sides of your face to try and protect it from the deranged rabbit, but he immediately tore them away.

"_P-Please stop! I'll do anything! I s-swear! Please stop hurting me!_" You spewed pleas, trying to get them to leave you alone, but why would they listen? Cackling wickedly they continued to rip limbs off your body, starting small with your fingers and ears, but at one point they both worked together to severe your right arm - the only arm you had left that had technically been yours. Crying out, you had no choice but to take their thrashings, helpless as they tore you to pieces, damaging your endoskeleton and destroying your suit.

Chickie attacked your one good eye, propulsing her hand into it to break both the protective glass coating and the lens inside, blinding you until you could receive a new one.

Just when you thought you'd be in pieces, a loud police radio resounded throughout the restaurant, and Mangle angrily whisked across the ceiling, screeching at your assailants, jaw wide open in a threat. Clyde and Chickie hurriedly raced to the edge of the stage, bolting down the main hallway to hide in the party rooms.

You crumpled, a disoriented piece of mess, limbs and pieces of your plastic suit out in front of you. Mangle moved over to above you, extending her neck down to see you. Her snout was right in front of your working eye, and she tilted it to the side, nudging you in the back of the head softly with her hook. In a spew of white noise and garbled voices from police radios, you heard her say, "You... seem... deeply... hurt. Are... you... alright?"

Because of how the kids ripped her apart everyday, they had messed with her voicebox and speaker. You all were connected to police radios because of your facial recognition software, but for Mangle it was the only form of communication she had left. So, to be able to talk with everyone, she compiled bits and pieces of police reports to form sentences. It was extremely difficult to understand, which was why she seldom talked to you - you had no idea what she was saying. Today, though, you understood her loud and clear.

"I-I-I-I think I'm a-alright. T-Thanks, Foxy," You said with gratitude without looking up, staring at nothing in particular in the dining room. They apparently had messed up your voicebox, too, because you now talked with a glitch like the old crew did.

Mangle's second head lowered itself down, looking into your eye. "Are... you... sure...?" It asked sincerely. You nodded slowly and her two heads also nodded in understanding.

"Do... you at... least... need help... up?" Mangle dangled a hand down from the ceiling, offering it to help you stand up. Wordlessly, you took it with your unsuited hand that lacked three fingers, and she pulled you up. You had to grab her with both of your hands in order to stay upright.

"Are... you... heading to... see... the old... crew?" She asked you, smiling, "I... can help you... get... down... there!"

"C-C-Could you please?" Your knees shook terribly of weakness where Chickie had torn important bolts from the joints. Mangle nodded excitedly and fixed the grip she had on your hand, and carefully led you down the stairs and into the hallway. You clung tightly to her, not wanting to fall over and break into even more pieces. You were extremely fragile; some of your most important components on the brink of shutting down for good, including your cortex, which was what kept you alive even when you were shut down for the night.

Once you both were in front of the parts door, she patted your head, walking backwards on the ceiling to allow you room to get inside. Out of the corner of your eye you saw one of the fakes peering at you from a party room, their eyes tiny little white pinpoints in the dark. Sighing with fragility, you shakily twisted the brass, walking in and shutting the door behind you. On the other side of the door, you heard Mangle make her way back to the Kids' Cove.

Like yesterday, Freddy, Goldie, and Foxy were nowhere to be found. Bonnie and Chica were still in their same spots but appeared as if they had been tampered with, Bonnie's head resting on the opposite shoulder and her arm over her lap. Chica wasn't sprawled on the floor anymore, sitting upright with her wrists in her lap. They both were covered with a semi-shiny liquid, which also was on the tile, reflecting the dim bulb lighting the room.

You stumbled in, holding onto the wall for support.

"Y-Y-You guys here?" You forced the words out of your throat, which took great effort. As always, no response immediately. Eventually, you heard a human-like groan from in the darkness, catching you off guard.

"I-I-I'm not getting u-up." The darkness snapped, its voice cold and bitter. You tried to stand upright, but your injuries wouldn't let you.

"Why?"

"B-B-Because if I d-do, I'm g-g-going to severely h-hurt someone." Freddy spat, his stubbornness admittedly hurting your feelings. _That's _what those particles were; feelings. You couldn't ever place the word.

"...What? W-Why?"

He went to say something snarky again, but you heard him stop himself with a quick sigh of frustration.

"T-There should be a flashlight o-o-on the g-ground somewhere. Look by B-B-B-Bonnie."

Weakly, you let go of the wall and scanned the floor for anything that could remotely be considered a flashlight. In the shadow Chica created, there laid a thick, gray tube, which you assumed was it. Falling to your knees with a clang, you reached out and could barely reach it, pulling it towards you with your palm. Using the one thumb you had left, you turned the switch on, a ray of light beaming out across the floor. From what was in its line of vision, you saw Freddy and Foxy's legs as they were sitting on the floor, with Goldie nowhere to be found. Instead, she was replaced by a bare endoskeleton, which you could see up to the elbows of where it hugged itself tightly.

You slowly crawled over to where they were, your perception starting to go.

"W-What...?" You groaned, reaching out at the endoskeleton in confusion, who curled their knees to their chest so you couldn't touch them, hugging themselves tighter. They didn't say anything.

"Do ye even have th' idea 'o what happened this day?" Foxy mumbled, his golden eyes boring into your head. You shook your head no, and the pirate glanced over at Freddy. The both of them were also covered in the marooned wet.

"D-During the day t-t-today, somebody c-came in, stole Goldie's s-s-suit, and..." Freddy shook with apparent anger, his jaw firm, "T-T-They murdered children. In h-h-her suit." The endoskeleton shifted again, no other than Goldie, who was visibly scarred with the whole thing. She was completely silent, staring at the ground, her mind completely absorbed with horror.

You blinked, resting what was left of your head on your outstretched arm. "W-Why would they d-d-do that?"

"...I don't know." Freddy murmured, "I don't know."

"Oi'll tell ye why," Foxy boomed, sitting upright, fist balled in fury, "Because they're a sick bastard that just wants to eye others in pain. That's why." His jaw was tight with emotion. He had a soft spot for children and you could definitely tell, flipping his eyepatch down and resting a hand on Goldie's shoulder.

"A-A-And to make i-it worse," Freddy added, gesturing to his chest, "T-The murderer s-s-stuffed the b-bodies in our suits. With u-us in them."

"_I-It was that _sodding _guard_." Goldie suddenly growled, snapping her head up, putting her arms at her sides and loosening her knees. "_I'm telling y-y-you, Freddy, it w-was the guard_."

"G-G-Goldie, there's nothing we c-can do. It's happened and it's over n-n-now."

"_Kill him!_" She screeched with insanity, starting to stand up, Foxy and Freddy grabbing at her arms to hold her down. You just laid there and watched, fading in and out of consciousness from all of the damage you inflicted.

"_K-K-K-Kill the damned g-guard! Someone needs to p-pay! Those k-k-kids died and y-you're just gonna s-sit around and weep about it? S-Sh-Sh-Shame on you!_" She fought against their grip, successfully breaking free and stumbling up, racing for the door. Before you could even turn your head to look behind you, the door was wide open, Goldie nowhere to be found.

"K-Kill the guard...?" Freddy repeated as if considering the idea. You three sat there (well, you laid) in silence, the breeze from the hallway escaping into the room and cooling it down.

"Aye, Teddy," Foxy said to your surprise, and you turned your head so he was in your view. You could barely see the bottom of his jaw from the beam of the flashlight. "Be ye alright? Ye're beat up pretty bad."

"T-T-T-Thank you f-for the c-c-concern," You added firstly, impressed he even noticed, "I-I'm pretty messed up. The r-r-replacements f-for B-Bonnie and C-C-C-Chica t-tore me apart." Saying even that bit had made you dizzy and you put your head down again. Freddy had yet to say anything about it, probably because he knew what the future led to, and you felt horrible about it.

Foxy stood up, his metal feet loudly echoing throughout the room. "H-Hang in t-t-thar, lad. I h-have a f-f-f-feeling it won't be much longer..." He ominously dropped off his sentence, leaving you to wonder what he had said, but to be honest with yourself you weren't even paying attention. Your head was comfortable on your arm where it was, your system trying to shut itself down from the damage. Freddy called after the pirate asking what he was doing, and he responded with what Goldie was doing.

Now it was just you two - Freddy and Freddy - in that quiet room, the sound of the fan from the security room down the hall and the occasional animatronic moving the only thing you could hear.

After laying there for a while and seeing that Freddy wasn't going to talk to you, you tried to stand up, slipping under weakness. You used all of the strength you had left to get your knee up, then the other knee, then with great force you managed to push yourself up, shaking to keep your balance. With pieces of your suit dragging along behind you, you dragged yourself over on the other side of the room. You hadn't even noticed that your legs gave out until the light flickered quickly in the pool of blood in front of your nose.

"I-I'm sorry if I seem rude t-t-tonight," Freddy apologized, and judging by the sound of metal hitting the tile, he was trying to stand up, "T-The whole thing that happened j-j-just has me all m-m-mad, and..." He sighed, "I'm gonna go and t-try to get the guard. Maybe I-I-I'll stuff him into a s-suit so he can f-f-feel the pain of the lives he s-stole."

You were laying on your back, and he walked over to you, leaning down to look you in the eye, similar to what you had done to him on the first night. "Y-You can't be comfortable."

You wanted to respond but didn't feel like you had the strength to, and just turned your head to the side, your exposed face thin on the sides. Grabbing underneath your arms, he dragged you up to the wall Bonnie sat against and propped you up. Laughing real deep like he always did, he stood up, his arms crossed.

"T-That any better?" He asked you, once again getting no response back. He just shook his head with a grin and walked towards the door, but stopped on a dime before he emerged into the hallway. Slowly, he turned his head, then turned his whole body, looking at you. You were dazed and confused, your one eye unable to focus on him because all he was to you was a shadow standing in front of a light.

"Y-You're really s-something, Teddy," he complimented you, and you tried your best to lift your head, "A-A-All those other toys a-are such snobs, and you d-deal with them just fine. I-If that were m-me, out there, I w-w-would've snapped by n-now, and it w-wouldn't be pretty." He adjusted his bowtie, a smile on his face, "Y-Y-You have the patience of a s-saint. On top of that, y-you're really nice and g-generous. B-Bonnie and Chica would've l-l-liked you; I'd bet m-money on it. F-F-Foxy likes you, too, he j-just has a weird w-w-way of showing it sometimes. I-I'm real sorry t-that you had to hide o-o-out in here to prevent stuff like what happened today. I r-r-r-really am." Deciding his bowtie was fine, he took his hat off his head and tipped it towards you like you did to the kids at the end of the day. "I-I-I'm glad I c-could be a friend to you when t-they couldn't. Goldie, too." He put his hat back on his head and went out into the hallway. Peering in one last time, he laughed, "It's been n-nice knowing you, F-F-Freddy F-Fazbear. I mean it."

Your eye focused in and out on his shape, your vision starting to fade into white noise from pain. In what little bit you could make out of him, you watched him walk away, down the hall to the guard's office. Your cortex began to overheat and make a beeping noise, signalling that it was going to go into an emergency shutdown. The longer it beeped the weaker you got, unconsciousness pulling you under. In the last of your waking moments, you rested your head against Bonnie's shoulder, closing the one eye you had left and letting the pain and weakness drift away.


	5. Chapter 5

Because of what had happened with the five children, the pizzeria was closed the next day, giving the mechanics and repairmen the perfect day to fix you up.

Since the damage you had inflicted was extremely excessive, they wound up pulling the tapes, revealing every minute of Clyde and Chickie tearing you apart. On a normal occasion, they probably would've done something about it, but because of all the chaos that was ensuing they just decided to repair you and leave it be.

By the time the restaurant would've closed, all of the humans were gone, leaving the three of you onstage again. Clyde and Chickie didn't acknowledge you, which truthfully speaking was for the best.

Your new arm and legs worked great; the feeling of strength had never been so welcoming. You could also now see out of both eyes again. It seemed like forever since you had been fully-functional.

For some reason, the night guard was in the building even though everything was on lockdown, but you didn't care. It made everything feel normal. You were closing down for good the next day and any sense of mediocrity was what would keep you from collapsing under sadness (you had finally placed the name of that feeling you felt often, as well).

Guilt comes in many forms. It's different for everybody. For one person, guilt could be claiming you have already made plans when you were actually doing nothing but lounging around. For another, guilt could be eating the last of the ice cream in the freezer with the knowledge that it was somebody else's. Guilt could also be leaving the family business to pursue your own dreams, getting into a fight with one's significant other, or telling one's sibling that the holiday entities that they believed in since birth actually weren't real.

For you, guilt came in the form of a tiny polyphon music box, which you wound up repeatedly outside of the room it came from. Guilt was the El Toreador - the only thing you hadn't stolen from him. It was all of him you had left.

...

**That concludes the story! Sorry if it seems like I ended it on a sour note (because I totally did), but that's how I felt this story should've ended ever since I started it. As always, I would absolutely LOVE it if you'd leave a review (negative reviews are accepted as long as they are civil and not flames), and enjoy the rest of your day surfing Fanfiction!**


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